The Lioness's Tale
by HogwartsLioness
Summary: The life of Minerva McGonagall from 11 till the defeat of Grindelwald. ADMM in the later years! Might go further in the future. Not a very good summary...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 - The Lioness**

**Disclaimer: I most definitely do not own Harry Potter! I might die of joy if I do.**

Minerva McGonagall has always been a studious girl by nature. At the age of 11, she had finished a quarter of the books in the vast and extensive library of the McGonagall Castle. Her best friend, as well as only friend, was her books. Books of all genres, be it Transfiguration or muggle Literature, intrigued her. Her eyes, emerald green and brimming with knowledge, was forever either skimming the lines of yet another book or scanning the index of the family's library. It was said then, that Minerva McGonagall could not have better friends than books.

Mr and Mrs McGonagall knew otherwise, however. They had long observed their only child's interest in flying. Even though she had never flown, they were certain that she would do well on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team - that is, if she could tear herself away from books long enough to try out. They did not wonder about her House though. The McGonagall clan was the eldest, purest, wealthiest and most well respected clan in Scotland, as well as much of Britain. They were also firm members of Ravenclaw, with every single member of their family in said House for quite a few , Robert and Isobel McGonagall had been proud members of Ravenclaw themselves, and still were.

It was in such a family that young Minerva grew up. When other children were out, screaming and running around in their backyards, she was sitting on the stone bench besides a majestic fountain in the gardens, poring over the theories of Transfiguration. When other children were laying in bed on a Saturday morning, she was brushing her shining, midnight black hair. It was somewhere beyond her shouder blades now. Since young, Minerva had always had the habit of rising with the sun. She could never have a lie-in anyway, on the rare occasions she tried Minerva always found herself awakened by her father's colleagues fire-calling him, or by a particularly noisy owl, dropping off a letter. For you see, Robert McGonagall was the Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and was one of the most prominent supporting branches of the Ministry. His wife, Isobel McGonagall nee Ross was no trophy wife either. She was a celebrated researcher in the fields of Potions.

As such, it was no surprise to anyone when a handsome screech owl flew through the opened windows of the McGonagall main dining room and dropped a thick envelope bearing the Hogwarts crest on the table. All three members of the family calmly continued eating, having long anticipated the letter's arrival. It wasn't as though owls are a rare sight in the Castle anyway. Minerva calmly slit open the envelope and briefly scanned its contents. _Dear Ms McGonagall...pleased to inform you...Yours sincerely..._exactly as she expected. Without so much as a hint of expression, she glanced up at her mother, who was finishing up her breakfast.

"Mother," Minerva began, "I will need to visit Diagon Alley soon." Isobel looked at the letter in her daughter's hand, and nodded briefly, before leaving for her study, undoubtly to continue on her latest research. Minerva stood up as well, intending to return to her library, where she spent more time in than her bedroom.

It wasn't that she was emotionless, or cold. It was simply that she was brought up and educated in such a way that emotions were to be kept inside and feelings were not to be shown. Her father was famous for his thoroughly unbiased judgement in the Wizengamot, and did not allow emotions to show often, especially not in court. Mother controlled hers so that no matter what people said, it could not affect her physically. It was a skill that came in useful while she was brewing. So naturally, Minerva learned not to display feelings openly at a tender age. It wasn't that she did not love her parents, or the other way round. Both parties love each other, but neither being perfectly eloquent with feelings, it was never expressed in words, only in minor gestures. Her father would always allow Minerva to read a recently published book first, and her mother would always ensure that one of her favourite dishes would appear for every meal. Minerva, in turn, did the one thing she was best at - studying. She would not let her parents down, she just had to be the best in the year. It was with this thought she went to bed every night.

Tonight, however, she was too excited to contemplate the idea of sleep. Thoughts of Hogwarts, Diagon Alley and Flourish and Blotts ran amok in her brain, though outwardly she shows no sign. Her parents had always been busy, and rarely brought her out. The idea of having a wand - her very own wand! - cheered her to no end. The idea of going to Hogwarts, however, gave her a slight case of nerves. She was not a sociable person by any means, and has been told on several occasions when her parents had friends over that she was blessed with a sharp tongue and quick wits. What if she didn't make any friends? What if she had to go through 7 years alone? It was with these thoughts that a slightly nervous Minerva fell asleep, tossing and turning through the night.

As the sun rose, Minerva flipped onto her side and woke. Her nerves were tingling slightly and it took a time to realise why - Mother was bringing her to Diagon Alley today. With a couple of deep breaths, she got up and started preparing herself for what would be a busy day. She had no idea how right she was. It was two hours later when the two female McGonagall stepped out of the fireplace and into Flourish and Blotts. The owner was a even tempered man who managed to serve them with a smile and perfectly polite manners, even after serving three families in rapid succession. It was something Minerva was impressed with - her temper was somewhat a sight to behold, though it was not a regular sight. Soon, they had every book they needed, as well as a couple more than caught Minerva's attention. Along the way, Minerva starred at just about everything. Isobel bought her daughter a sleek black owl, although she would have preferred a cat. She couldn't really care though - she was too busy absorbing everything she was seeing. It was tough to contain her excitement, which she managed, but barely. Slowly, they made their way to their last shop - Ollivander's.

Mr Ollivander was a curious, middle aged and balding wizard. He had unnerving grey eyes and a strangely knowing smile. Minerva took an instant disliking towards this stranger. "Ah, the youngest McGonagall, I see." Ollivander said upon their entrance. He immediately went to the many shelves in his shop, retrieving a pile of thin, black boxes. Minerva ignored him, instead taking the time to study her new copy of Hogwarts - A History. "Come, try this," Ollivander called out, waving a wand box from behind a dozen other boxes. Irritatedly, she grabbed the wand and made to give it a flick. Yet as she was about to being it down, Ollivander snatched it, still behind the pile of wands. Setting everything down on his desk, he said thoughtfully, "No, no, this one would be better," only to snatch it back again. Time and time this went on, until her mother decided to ignore them both and scan through her copy of Daily Prophet. It was the twenty-third wand Minerva was handed when green sparks shot out of the tip of it. "Marvelous! Just the wand for you, I believe, Miss McGonagall!" Ollivander exclaimed. As Isobel paid for the wand and sent the other boxes back to where they were, Minerva overheard Ollivander murmured, "Fir and dragon heartstring...very powerful...destined for great things indeed...and a McGonagall too..." Not bothering to think twice about it, she simply exited the shop.

The rest of the afternoon was peaceful compared to the rather hectic. Mother had a project requiring her attention, and they had left Diagon Alley for the Castle after a quick lunch. It suited Minerva alright though, she was anxious to start on her books. By nightfall, Minerva already had much of her Charms textbook in her brain, as well as half of Hogwarts: A History. Her brain was absolutely whirring from the morning's event. What did Ollivander expect from her? Great things? Great things like what? Once more, she found herself overwhelmed by expectations from everyone. There was one thing for sure though - Minerva McGonagall was going to be the best ever witch to walk the doors of Hogwarts.

**A/N:**

**1. I tend to keep most facts true, like her wand and her parents' name, just to save the trouble of creating them myself.**

**2. This is going to be a reaaally long story :x so hang on there!**

**3. I don't have a beta since I prefer working individually xD so bear with me for any mistakes!**

**4. Yep, first fic. Be kind!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Hogwarts, The First Sight**

**JericaMMADfan: Thanks! You have no idea what that one review means to me xD**

**Disclaimer: I most definitely don't own Harry Potter. I might die of happiness if I do.**

A lone figure sat upon a grand Victorian style bed in the early hours of dawn, her flowing dark hair swaying slightly in the breeze. Her simple black trunk embedded with the McGonagall family crest stood in a corner. Try as she might, she could not stop the completely frantic butterflies in her stomach. Merlin, she was a nervous wreck! She absolutely could not wait to get to Platform 9 and 3/4. Her father had promised to take the morning off work to send her, seeing as Mother had a Potions conference in France. Nerves tingling, she made her way to her washroom, wondering what life would be like in Hogwarts.

"Father?" Minerva asked. Robert McGonagall peered out from behind the Daily Phophet, frowning slightly.

"Yes?" he asked, eyes back to the newspaper.

"I need to be at King's Cross later," Minerva started. A flash of guilt appeared in Father's eyes, and Minerva's heart sank. She knew that look. It meant that she would, once again, take care of herself. She sighed.

"I'm sorry, Minerva. There's a bit of an emergency..." Robert began awkwardly, gesturing to an article feebly. Minerva caught the name Grindelwald on the headlines. She sighed once more. "Nevertheless, I ought to have to drop you off at the station," Father continued, "shall we leave now?" Rising, the pair made their way to their respective rooms.

Twenty minutes later, Minerva found herself maneuvering between muggle families and tourists. Locating the barrier, she inconspicuously edged her way through the wall, as her father had told her to.

A loud hooting noise rang through the air as Minerva open her eyes. A brick red train stood proudly at the station, occasionally puffing out smoke. Families called out to one another, friends calling out to one another. It was a scene of merriment, yet Minerva felt no sense of joy. There was only a stabbing reminder that her parents had, once again, chose work over her. Ignoring everyone, she proceeded to board the train. It was largely empty, being 15 minutes from departure time. As she was settling down, intending to finish up with The History Of Magic, a young boy poked his head in. "Anyone else sitting here? Everywhere else is full," he said in a gruff voice. Minerva's head snapped up. "What? Oh. Right. Sure, take a seat," she replied. Evidently time had passed quicker than she expects, if everywhere else was full. "Minerva McGonagall," she greeted, extending her hand. "Alastor Moody," the boy answered, accepting the hand somewhat hesitantly. "You know, I don't bite," Minerva remarked casually. He laughed hoarsely. "No, but others do." Tilting her head slightly, she narrowed her eyes. "Your parents," she said finally, "They're aurors, aren't they?" Alastor stared at her. "How do you know?" he asked. Minerva rolled her eyes. "Only aurors' children are that paranoid, you know," she informed him. He grinned.

They traded information on Hogwarts, and compared notes on the various Ministry officials they have met. By the end of the day, they had a number of nicknames that might just get their parents into trouble for the least pleasant ones. As the train pulled into Hogsmeade, Minerva came to a sudden realisation - she had made a new friend. With a small smile, they made their way off the train.

Ogg was a grumpy looking man. For reasons unknown, he seem to give out an air of nastiness. "First years, follow me," he ordered irritatedly. "I don't like him," Minerva whispered to Alastor. He pulled a face in response. They were led through a grand set of front gates into a medieval hall, with another set of heavy looking doors which, Minerva guessed, led to the Great Hall, before being ushered into a small chamber at the side. She had read all about the procedure, of course, in Hogwarts, A History. The one thing it did not say, however, was how students were sorted. Her parents had been strangely secretive about it, telling her that it was every Hogwarts student for see for themselves. It was ridiculous to her. She was confident that it would not be too tough though. They were first years after all.

A strict looking female came out of a side chamber from one of the doors in the wall. She gave the cluster of nervous first years a sweeping look. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she began. "I am Professor Merrythought. In a moment, you will be led through these doors for the Sorting Ceremony. You will be sorted into four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin." At that, a few haughty looking boys smirked and exchanged high-fives. Professor Merrythought ignored them, and instead beckoned to the group, before sweeping through the doors.

Candle light poured out from the room - no, hall - beyond. Chatterings of hundreds of students filled the previous quiet chamber. Minerva sucked in a quick breath. Beside her, Alastor swore softly, looking at the sight ahead in awe.

Thousands of candles dangled from the ceiling, neither dripping nor melting. The ceiling reflected the night sky outside, showing a hazy night with distant, twinkling stars. Light from candles and torches lining the walls bounced off the gold plates on four, mahogany tables that ran from one end of the hall to another. At the other end, an ornate looking table stood on a raised platform, which was where the teachers all sat. Right in the middle sat Headmaster Dippet, a gentle looking man in his hundreds. It was a breath-taking sight.

Professor Merrythought led the group forward, to the raised platform. Then, she place a stool and turned around to address them. "When I call your name, you will come up here and I'll place the Sorting Hat upon your head. After that, you will join the House you have been sorted into for the Welcoming Feast." she explained. Minerva released a breath she had not realised she was holding. It was just a hat.

Minerva watched as student after student went forth and got sorted. She was biting her lips by the time Merrythought reached the 'M's. After 'Malfoy, Abraxas' went to Slytherin, it was her turn. "McGonagall, Minerva!" Merrythought called out. Raising her chin a little, Minerva made her way up. The last thing she saw was the Ravenclaws perking up upon hearing her name.

'Hmmm, very intelligent. Terrifyingly intelligent, in fact. A McGonagall, and a Ross as well. You would make a notable Ravenclaw,' the Hat mused. 'Dead loyal as well...but no, not enough patient for a Hufflepuff. Sly as well, and wonderful at strategies. You could be a Slytherin, but the ambition isn't there. Oh, and the courage! Marvelous, marvelous bravery. Very determined as well. You aren't one to back down from challenges, are you?' it continued. 30 seconds ticked by, as the Hat debated with itself. It seemed to be stuck between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.

Three minutes passed, and everyone was fidgeting. Minerva heard more than one whisper of 'What's taking so long?' among the students. The Sorting Hat continued it's lonesome debate. It seemed to have ran out of words to describe her, but rather just kept going 'Mmmm...'. Under the hat, Minerva was certain she would fall asleep before she was sorted.

Another two minutes passed in the same fashion. At long last, the Hat exclaimed, 'Aha! I know where you shall go. GRYFFINDOR!' it shouted out the last word. A stunned silence swept through the Hall. Not a single McGonagall had gone to any House except Ravenclaw since, well, none in anyone's memory. Slowly, but steadily, the table at the left side of the Hall began applauding. Minerva blinked. She had not expected this.

**A/N:**

**Dumbledore's coming in during Min's third year. Be patient :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - First Year, Part I**

**Disclaimer: I most definitely don't own Harry Potter. I might die of happiness if I do.**

**This is one of the hardest chapters I probably will write, since nothing interesting really happened, but I just had to write about her first day. .**

The next day, Minerva was the first in her dorm to rise. She looked around her, trying to match their names to their faces. Augusta Prewitt...Amelia Bones...the twins, Dorea and Cedrella Black, and herself. She smiled slightly. The Sorting the previous night was completely shocking. Some were wondering whether the Sorting Hat had lost its mind. The Blacks were well-known Slytherins and the McGonagalls Ravenclaw. Yet, all three of them were now Gryffindors. The Bones were traditionally Hufflepuffs as well. By the end of the Feast, the five of them all agreed on one thing: their years at Hogwarts were definitely going to be interesting. But now, they were going to have to go down for breakfast, or they'll be late. Sighing, she rose to wake the four other girls.

By the time the four other girls were awake and ready, they had twenty minutes of breakfast left.

"Morning, Minerva!" Alastor greeted as she and the rest of the new Gryffindor girls sat down with the other first years. Two other Gryffindors, Charlus Potter and Septimus Weasley, nodded in their direction as well. "Where's the other boy?" Minerva asked. She distinctively remembered a Harold Longbottom from the night before.

"Longbottom's still in bed," the boy called Charlus replied, without looking up from his bacon, just as the boy walked into the Great Hall.

"Got your lesson schedule yet?" Alastor asked. Minerva shook her head, scooting closer to Dorea to give Longbottom space.

"I reckon Professor Hawkins there's giving it out," Alastor said, gesturing towards an elderly wizard approaching them, "He's the Head of Gryffindor." Minerva supposed that his crimson and gold robes were enough of a hint.

"Morning, Professor!" they called out when he reached them. Hawkins gave them a polite nod and hand out their schedules.

"Oh, great. We've got Hawkins first, for Transfiguration, with the Ravenclaws. Then we've Potions, with the Slytherins." A collective groan went up from the bunch of them, the loudest coming from the Black twins. They all knew that those two were going to be the most heavily bullied ones. "Well, at least we've got Transfiguration first!" Minerva said, trying to cheer them up. Dorea gave her a half hearted smile in return. "Come on, we need to start moving," she urged, leaving the table herself.

Professor Hawkins was a friendly man, but cared too much for the progress of the whole class – so much that the progress made in the first lesson was scarce. Minerva proved to have a remarkable flair for Transfiguration though, and managed to achieve a shiny, pointy needle on her first try. It successfully shocked Hawkins into silence for two minutes while he examined the needle, the way a collector would examine an antique teacup. It was rather irritating, however, to endure both the professor and her classmates' wondering glances thorough the lesson, though some glances were more hating than wondering. Only two other Ravenclaws had made any change to their matchsticks, and so Minerva ended up transfiguring the needle into different colours.

The bell rang just as she turn the needle bright yellow. Eager to get away from the attention, Minerva gathered her books swiftly and barely heard Hawkins dismissing the class. She had never liked attention, and it was overwhelming in the classroom. _Perhaps Potions would be better_, she thought, though it was unlikely, given how Minerva had inherited some of her mother's talent.

"Hey, Minerva! Minerva, wait up!" came the voice of Alastor from behind her. She paused slightly, allowing him to catch up. "You were brilliant back then!" he exclaimed, "how did you do that?" Minerva shrugged. "I just did. Nothing special." Alastor snorted. "Nothing special, my foot. Hawkins was going on about how he has never met another first year who could do that in five minutes beside this Dumber-something bloke." he said, hurrying slightly to keep up with Minerva's long strides. Minerva ignored him.

The two reached the dungeons before any of their classmates did, and entered the empty classroom. It was of vast difference to the rest of the dungeons, which were cold, unwelcoming and somewhat sinister. Here, sunlight streamed in through windows despite being underground, and the temperature resembled that of the rest of the school. They chose a bench at the front of the class and settled down, waiting for the others to join them.

As the rest of the class filled in, the Gryffindors noticeably were sneaking glances at Minerva, who sat ramrod straight in her chair, going over her Potions book again. All attention, however, was directed towards the back of the class, as the doors opened once more to reveal their Professor. He was a merry looking middle aged wizard, with an extremely round belly and slightly balding hair. Beaming at them, he swept his hands wide open and announced, "Good morning, dear children! Welcome to your first Potions class!" Walking down the aisle towards his table, he continued, "I am Professor Slughorn, your Potions professor. Now, let's start with attendance!"

As Slughorn continued to call out names, Alastor leaned over and whispered to Minerva, "They say he's Head of Slytherin. Apparently he's rather biased to the more influential students." Minerva had a rough idea of what he meant by influential – those with important parents. Instantly, her impression of Slughorn took a nose dive. Prejudice was one of the things Minerva simply could not tolerate. "McGonagall, Minerva!" Slughorn called out. Minerva raised her hand. Slughorn raised a bushy eyebrow. "Isobel's daughter, I presume? Very talented, your mother. One of my prized students," he beamed proudly. Minerva smiled tightly with a polite nod. If Alastor was right, he would be biased towards her. Thankfully, the rest of the attendance taking passed without any incidents.

By the end of the lesson, Minerva was certain she had gained a whole bunch of enemies, simply by answering every single question Slughorn posted – and correctly. Previously, just the Ravenclaws were glaring at her, and now the Slytherins were as well. _Well, I am a Gryffindor in their territory after all_, Minerva thought with a slight smirk. She had never liked Slytherins much anyway, especially not how they sneered at the Black twins as though they were filth. The Ravenclaws, however, were a different matter. Her family all came from Ravenclaw and it rather pained her to know that they, of all people, detested her. _If they can't take me outshining them, then I don't need them_, she decided. She was not going to let anyone stand in her way to the top, Ravenclaw or not. With that in mind, she joined the rest of the Gryffindors on their way to the Great Hall for Lunch.

The first years had Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch, which was taught by Professor Merrythought. She was a strict and sharp professor who Minerva instinctively felt was not to be crossed. "Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. There will be no fooling around in this classroom. Troublemakers, you have been warned," Professor Merrythought started gravely, once everyone was seated. The atmosphere instantly became tense with this announcement, and the chattering died down to pin drop silence. Merrythought smiled for a fraction of a second, satisfied. "Much better."

Defense Against the Dark Arts turned out to be the most interesting class for Minerva. Professor Merrythought spent the whole lesson lecturing them on the dangerous and dark side of their world, about Dark Wizards and the deeds they do. Minerva followed her every word with rapt attention, much unlike Charlus and Septimus, who were dozing off behind her. She was so absorbed in the lesson that she didn't notice on the edge of her seat, until Merrythought dismissed the class and she nearly fell out of her seat while standing up. Alastor gave a soft snicker, which Minerva silenced with a glare.

"I have no idea what she was saying," Alastor moaned on their way to their next class, History of Magic. Minerva glanced at him, surprised. "Your parents are Aurors, Alastor. How can you not understand?" He rolled his eyes. "My parents don't talk about it, Minerva. They go out there and fight it. Who actually lectures about fighting the Dark Arts? That's plain boring." Minerva sniffed slightly, and declared, "Well I think it was interesting." She liked Professor Merrythought very much; she had a no-nonsense air around her that Minerva respected. Alastor huffed. "Can't wait to get to dueling though," he said, eyes gleaming wickedly. Minerva smirked. That was one thing she agreed with.

Their final class of the day, History of Magic turned out to be a complete boredom, and was unfortunately a double period. She completely ignored the professor, an old, dull and monotonous teacher called Binns. Her History textbook was far more intriguing. Charlus and Septimus were once more behind her, and had apparently replenished their energy during DADA, and were currently cracking jokes about Goblin Rebellions. To her side, Dorea and Cedrella were drawing sketches of Slytherins, either drowning in cauldrons or the Black Lake. They had to sit to one whole lesson of taunting and sneering from the Slytherins during Potions, and were both feeling rather murderous towards their ancestors. Minerva could not blame them – being called 'worthless, Mudblood loving filth' was not a good way to celebrate the first day of school.

By the end of the day, Minerva's head was spinning. Hogwarts was a lot for one to take in, with all the professors, support staff, corridors, classrooms, portraits and _moving_ staircases. In her opinion, the staircases were the worst; she had nearly gotten to dinner late because of it. The meals, however, was wonderful. Back home, even with their 15 house elves serving them, they never had such a feast. Both her parents disapproved of food wastage, and as such, the elves have learnt to cook just the right amount each meal. Here, at Hogwarts, the food never seem to run out, something Septimus and Charlus seem to take full advantage of, as Minerva observed over dinner wryly. Both boys were stuffing their faces as though there was no tomorrow. She retired early from dinner, and went to sleep after completing her Potions assignment, reading. It had been a tiresome day.

**A/N:**

**I realise that Minerva and Alastor probably sounded more mature than the Trio did in their first year, but I had a hard time imagining an immature Minerva, or Alastor. Septimus and Charlus sound like the Weasleys, don't they? And yes, the 'Dumber-something bloke' was Albus.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – First Year, Part II**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I do, I might just die of happiness.**

**From now on, the more interesting (hopefully) stuff are coming up! Yay!**

By the end of two weeks, Minerva would said that she had somewhat gotten the hang of the castle. She knew who she should avoid and who she actually liked. The Slytherins, especially one Dolores Umbridge, were foul and paid no attention to rules. Another Slytherin called Tom Riddle unnerved Minerva slightly, with his black, cold and calculating eyes and smooth manners. Only Professor Merrythought seemed immune to his intelligence and politeness. She was fair to everyone, and showed absolutely no signs of favouritism, though Minerva thought she saw the professor smile slightly in her direction once or twice. Dolores Umbridge, on the other hand, was a completely nuisance. She was short and squat, with a flabby chin, toad like eyes and curly, mousey brown hair. Her favourite sound was a fake and sickening cough (hem hem!) that disgusted Minerva, and had an unhealthy obsession with cats, the colour pink and bows. Minerva despised her, right from the bright pink bow on her head to pink rimmed boots on her feet.

The other Slytherins were not much better either. Abraxas Malfoy, an obnoxious, arrogant and prejudiced pure-blood, treated all half-blood, 'blood traitors' and muggle-borns like scum. His cronies, Nott and Lestrange, were if possible, worse. Both were highly unintelligent, loud and were the most unhygienic people Minerva had ever seen. She actually witnessed them having dinner – that required their hands – after a lesson of Herbology straightaway, without washing their hands. The sight was enough to put her off her food.

As for her fellow Gryffindors, she found them to be amusing company. Charlus and Septimus had already become fast friends, and were always joking and loudly planning a prank. Minerva had discreetly advised them on a prank once. Much as she adored discipline, she could appreciate a good prank when she saw one – meaning a prank that did not involve injuries or any form of a personal insult, and one with a good dose of humiliation that said victim deserved. Alastor had given her a wide grin when he saw her whispering to the twosome. The two Blacks were a different story. Between the two, Dorea was the more outspoken one, while Cedrella was quieter and more cautious one. Augusta was the most similar to Minerva out of the girls; they were both disciplined and strict, though she struggled horribly with Charms.

Minerva, on the other hand, was turning to out be a 'legend', to quote some of her professors. Transfiguration presented no challenge to her, and Defense Against the Dark Arts proved to be one of her best as well as Charms and of course, Potions. There was, however, one class that she simply did not enjoy – Herbology. The plants never seemed to like her much, and the lesson always ended with her wishing to just set the plant on flames and be done with it.

Her first flying lesson had taken place three days ago, with the Slytherins. Minerva found it simple and rather relaxing, while Augusta didn't trust herself enough to go more than half a storey high. Dorea was flying loops with Minerva, while Cedrella watched them at a safe distance in mild amusement. Below them, Dolores was squealing whenever someone flew near her, and complained loudly about wind messing up her hair. No one paid her any attention.

She had noticed though, ever since she had outshined the Slytherins in both Potions and Flying, that Abraxas Malfoy and his cronies were being even more obnoxious, if that was possible. He kept a running commentary on how the people who did not go into the same House as their family usually lacks the qualities of that House – ignoring the fact that Minerva more or less topped every class, and was a challenge for the Hat to Sort. Nott and Lestrange just leered at her whenever she was around them.

The day had started out bad. When Minerva first woke up, she was sorely tempted by the idea of forgoing breakfast and sleep in. Groaning, she crossed over to the bathroom beyond their dorm room. By the time she was finished with her morning routine, she felt better, if only slightly.

Breakfast was a noisy affair as usual, only that today Minerva deliberately tuned out all that was happening around her. It had taken her a week and a half to compose a letter to her parents regarding her House without sounding panic, worried, or uncertain. If there were no delays, their reply should be arriving today. She had no idea what to expected, herself being the only non-Ravenclaw McGonagall she knew. Would they be terribly disappointed? Would she receive a Howler in place of a letter? Whatever their reply would be, it had taken a toll on her appetite. As though cued, hundreds of owls streamed into the Great Hall, squawking and circling above them for their letter's recipient. Minerva spotted the figure of her own owl, Glaucus, among the rest. A letter that bore the unmistakable seal of the McGonagall clan, obvious even from a distance, was tied to it. _This is it_, Minerva thought, _the moment of truth_. Deciding that no good would come out of dragging this moment out, she neatly broke the green and blue seal, oblivious to her friends' looks.

_Minerva, _

_I detect a hint of apprehension directed at our response in your previous letter. If you are afraid that we would be disappointed in you for that, fret not, for whether you are a Gryffindor or Ravenclaw does not matter much to us. Both Mother and I have seen evidence of your intelligence to us, and we are certain that Gryffindor or not, you will perform well in your studies. _

_Your mother is baffled as to why Potions is not your best subject, but I have assured her that Transfiguration is just as important, perhaps even more. Do not be astonished should she teach you more of the subject in hope that you would enjoy it over the holidays. I, however, am pleased that Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed to be to your liking. Merrythought was the best Auror in the office until she left for Hogwarts. The world is changing, Minerva, I can only tell you as much. Defense lessons may be the most important subject in some years to come. _

_Do not think too much into being a Gryffindor – or rather, not being a Ravenclaw. It does not mean that you are unintelligent, but rather more courageous than clever. Again, I must impress on you the value of both traits. There may come a time when these two traits will make one highly sought out in our world. I cannot say more, the other details are confidential. _

_Father_

Minerva breathed out a sigh of relief that she did not know she was holding. Her parents were not mad, disappointed, or disapproving. "Well?" Dorea demanded. Her head snapped up. "Well what?" she replied. Dorea rolled her eyes, seeming impatient. "What did your parents say?" Dorea had seen her struggling to draft that letter a week ago. By then, Alastor and Amelia were listening in as well. They both had noticed her distress over the past week whenever the topic of Houses came up. Minerva grinned. "They don't mind," she informed them happily. Dorea gave a smug smile. "Knew it," she replied, in an equally smug tone. Minerva merely grinned wider. Maybe the day wouldn't turn out to be bad after all.

It was after Charms lesson when Minerva had a run in with the Slytherin Slugs, also known as Malfoy, Nott and Lestrange. It was a wonderfully charming nickname that Augusta had come up with. Around the corner, Malfoy was having a one-sided conversation on how the standard of Hogwarts was decreasing rapidly. The terms 'filthy half-bloods', 'good as a Muggle', 'worthless blood traitor' came out. Minerva's lips thinned dangerously and her eyes flashed in anger. She was about to go off the opposite direction when she heard him describing Alastor as a 'paranoid, good for nothing freak'. That set her off. She spun around the corner as fast that one would have thought she had Apparated. "What did you call him?" she demanded in a low, terrifying voice. She felt no small amount of vindictive pleasure as panic and fear settled into his eyes. Visibly struggling to keep his mask of boredom on, Malfoy replied, "I called him a paranoid, good for nothing freak, McGonagall. Surely you –" he never got to finish the statement, for at that moment Minerva temper exploded with the force of a volcanic eruption. Malfoy flew backwards, missing a statue by mere inches. Before Minerva could comprehend what she had done, a sharp and furious voice snapped, "McGonagall!" Minerva froze at the unmistakable voice of Professor Merrythought. She spun around to face an utterly livid Deputy Headmistress. She gulped. Merrythought swept past her to assist Malfoy to his feet. Malfoy seemed saw this as a chance to get back at Minerva, and moaned, clutching his head desperately. "Get to the Hospital Wing this instance, Mr. Malfoy," Merrythought instructed, ushering Nott and Lestrange forward to help him. Then she turned around to face a shocked Minerva. Minerva, who was rooted to the ground as the adrenaline from her anger wore off, felt as though she might cry at the disappointment and anger evident in her favourite professor's eyes. It tore at Minerva's heart to know that she had let Merrythought down. "Detention, Miss McGonagall, and thirty points from Gryffindor. I am severely disappointed in you." Merrythought replied curtly. Minerva bowed her head, nodding slightly. Merrythought sighed. "Off to lunch, now," she said brusquely, spinning around on her heels and marching off.

"Wait. You mean Merrythought gave you detention _and _took thirty points from Gryffindor _because _of Malfoy?" Dorea hissed in a disbelieving tone. It was lunch, and Minerva had just told them of what happened outside the Charms classroom. Cedrella curled her lips in disdain towards the Defense professor. "Did she hear what Malfoy even said?" Dorea continued, irritation seeping into her voice. Minerva shook her head. "Yet you didn't tell her," Dorea finished drily. "You didn't see her!" Minerva exclaimed, "I thought she would have expelled me!" Dorea sighed. "Well, you'll earn those points back during Potions later anyway. Good thing Slughorn adores you so much," she grumbled. Minerva sighed. She was not that concerned about the points, rather it was the detention that worried her. What did one get for detention in Hogwarts? There was always that creepy Forest...

Her nightmare came true that evening before dinner. The Slytherins were being worst than ever, gleeful that she was in trouble and infuriated that she had injured Malfoy, who they seem to worship as their leader. Except, of course, Riddle, who gave Minerva an odd, calculating stare that sent barely restrained shudders down her spine. Umbridge was simpering about justice being restored and flashing Minerva sickening little smiles. Slughorn didn't notice anything however, and awarded twenty points for knowing about the origin and medical effects of a bezoar.

After Binns class, as the group of Gryffindors made their way to the Great Hall, Merrythought stopped Minerva to hand her the detention slip. At the insistence of Alastor, Minerva read it at the Gryffindor table. All her dorm mates, as well as Alastor, were crowding around her, wanting to know what Merrythought had assigned her. As she read the first line of words, Minerva's heart sank.

_Miss McGonagall:_

_You will serve detention tonight. Please report to Ogg's hut at nine o'clock._

_Professor Merrythought_

Minerva felt faintly sick. If she was to meet Ogg, it meant that she would be serving detention in the Forbidden Forest. She had never been good around animals, except for horses for they were calmer. She thought of the animals that could be in the Forest. Thestrals, centaurs, hippogriffs, werewolves even. She could only hope that they were working with unicorns; they were the only animals she knew lived in the forest that was not dangerous or foul.

Nightfall came quickly that night – too quickly. At half an hour to nine that night, Minerva was pacing up and down in her dorm. It would be cold, but having grown up in the Scottish Highlands, she was immune to cold, and did not intend to bring along a coat. She mulled over the possible tasks she could be given, and liked each lesser than the previous. After fifteen minutes, she decided to just face detention head on, like a Gryffindor should. "Like a Gryffindor should," she murmured, repeating it like a mantra. She wasn't sure she was convinced.

Her detention, it turned out, was to pick up unicorn hair from the complicated undergrowth of the Forest. It wasn't terribly tough, Minerva told herself. She had instantly regretted her decision to not bring a coat once she stepped into the Forest. Ogg had decided that he simply could not be bothered to accompany Minerva on her task, so here she was now, trekking through the dangerously woven plants of the Forests, wary of whatever may be lurking around.

Time ticked by, and the small drawstring bag she was carrying on her hand was half full with the shimmering, silver hair. A cold wind swept through the trees, dense as they were. Minerva shivered. She was supposed to return to her dormitory herself after two hours. The darkness and atmosphere did not intimidate her, but rather the increasingly frequent of a not so gentle storm did. Minerva could hear the howling of the wind just beyond the boundaries of the Forest, and occasional lightning, followed swiftly by the clap of thunder. It was just a matter of time before the skies opened up and engulfs them all in rain. Minerva was already starving, exhausted, nervous and freaked. She wholeheartedly did not want drenched to the list. At last, she decided that she would rather deal with potentially leaving detention early (for she had no idea how long she's been in there) than stay in the Forest for another minute. With that firmly in mind, Minerva made her way back to castle. It was lucky she had decided to walk in only one direction, for she would have been lost otherwise.

Professor Merrythought, on the other hand, was pacing along the boundaries of the Forest anxiously. After dinner earlier that evening, she had passed by three Slytherins girl giggling about how Malfoy had been insulting the first year Gryffindors, thus setting the young McGonagall girl off. They seem to be exceptionally smug that the very same girl was now serving detention. From the way they described her, Merrythought gathered that they disliked her intensely, and were probably jealous of her as well. Merrythought glanced at her watch again, her heart beating faster still. It had been three hours, and there was no sight of Miss McGonagall. She had been infuriated to find out that Ogg had chosen to remain in the comfort of his hut then accompany the girl, as he _should_. Goodness knows what sort of creatures lived in the Forest…it was, after all, forbidden. She sighed. How could she have been so rash? She ought to have listened to both sides of the story, instead of jumping to conclusions.

Overhead, the lightning flashed, illuminating the grounds temporarily, then a huge clap of thunder sounded, before it started to pour. Merrythought could cry out in despair. A first year was in the Forest at midnight, and it had just started raining. _Charming mix,_ Merrythought thought wryly. She was about to set foot into the Forest to hunt for the girl herself, when an already drenched, and obviously worn down Minerva McGonagall stumbled from the woods, her vision blurred by the fierce droplets of water. Instantly, it felt as though a huge boulder was lifted from her heart. The girl was safe! Immediately, though, her relief changed to alarm, as McGonagall shook visibly. She rushed forward to assist her back into shelter. If the girl was surprised by her presence, she did not show it.

Once they were back in the Entrance Hall, Merrythought dried off the pair of them with a flick of her wand. What she saw made her gasp. McGonagall's arms were scratched and bleeding slightly, while her knees are scrapped and losing blood at a rather alarming rate. It was no wonder why she was shaking. "What happened?" Merrythought cried out, alarmed. "I, well, walked into a tree, Professor, and tripped on a root," the Gryffindor answered somewhat sheepishly. Merrythought pursed her lips. It was not an animal attack, thankfully. She healed the girl's injuries and began on the hardest part. "About my punishment, Miss McGonagall," she paused slightly, unsure of how to continue, "I must say, I've made a rather rash decision. I issued your punishment without investigating the matter. I apologised. The points you have lost have been restored, but unfortunately I was not able to revoke your detention," Merrythought admitted. She glimpsed a flash of smugness in the Gryffindor's eyes, before it was replaced with sincerity. "It's alright professor, there was no harm done," the girl assured her. At her raised eyebrows, the girl added, "Well, not much anyway." Merrythought gave her a tight smile. "I do believe it is time for you to return to your dormitory, Miss McGonagall," she instructed, bidding her good night.

That night, Minerva slept soundly. She had survived a detention in the Forbidden Forest, earned back her trust from Merrythought and received the lost points. It was, however, from this day on that Minerva learnt a crucial lesson: emotions should not be shown.

That night, the Ice Queen was born.

**A/N:**

**I thought I would put the birth of the Ice Queen in Minerva in her first year. That way, she can use her icy exterior against Umbridge and everyone else :D**

**The next chapter will include a Quidditch match, as well as the Blacks' response towards Dorea and Cedrella's sorting. Do review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 First Year, Part III**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!**

After that first detention, life at Hogwarts went on as per usual. Well, as normal as life at Hogwarts ever was. Slytherins and Gryffindors continue to antagonise one another, though it would be unusual for that not to happen. However, the tension among the general student body was rising day by day as the Quidditch matches arrived.

On the day of the first Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, Minerva found herself rather nervous. She had, after all, spent her life listening to the stories of Ravenclaw's victories on the rare days her parents felt like reminiscing the past. She wanted Gryffindor to win, badly. Her competitive nature made defeat a tough pill for Minerva to swallow. On the other hand, the Ravenclaws might just use this as another excuse to hate on her more. They have never been a friendly bunch, and were mostly openly hostile towards her. _I doubt it matters, _Minerva thought wryly_, judging by how they already despise me._ In the end, her competitiveness won, and Minerva found herself loaded with a huge Gryffindor flag her room mates and herself had conjured (after much reading and practicing on Minerva's behalf). They intended to hang it over the stands, where the players just couldn't miss it. Amelia had even checked with Professor Hawkins whether it was allowed. While Minerva and Augusta were concerned with discipline, Amelia was more concerned with what the rules said. They often joked that she would go into the Department of Law Enforcement in the Ministry after graduation.

Fifteen minutes before the match, the first-year Gryffindors were already seated at the stands. Minerva did a quick head count of the crowd. The red and blue stands were overflowing with students, with a decent attendance rate from the other two Houses as well. Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were cheering for their own House, while Slytherins jeered at both; they didn't like either of the Houses. Hufflepuffs were a tad more subdued, and most of them were cheering for whichever House they knew better. Minerva glanced at her friends. They had hung their flag over the ledge of the stands, something which seemed to displease the Ravenclaws. Professor Merrythought was in Ravenclaw colours, and sat behind the match commentator, a Gryffindor Minerva did not recognise. Suddenly, the crowd screamed. The House teams were crossing the field towards the centre. Minerva leaned forward. The match was starting.

"And here comes the House teams! For Gryffindor, we present Longbottom, Weasley, Johnson, Wood, Prewitt, Spinnet and Bell!" Minerva clapped loudly, not wanting to scream unlike Augusta who was cheering wildly for her brother, Algie Prewitt. "For the Ravenclaws, you have Lovegood, Chang, Corner, Davies, Samuels, Page and Duncan!" the blue stands roared their support. "And they're off! Quaffle immediately in possession of Prewitt, who shoots, and…scores! Gryffindor scores, 10 to 0!" the commentator cried out, his last word barely audible over the noise from the Gryffindors. "Lovegood's with the Quaffle now! And it's with Corner, back to Lovegood and again! Corner shoots! Does he scores?" the commentator was nearly shouting into the microphone now. The crowd held their breath as the Gryffindor Keeper, Wood turned sharply to the left and batted the Quaffle away with his finger tips. The Ravenclaws gave a collective groan, along with some polite applause from Hufflepuff. Minerva smirked. The Gryffindor team was good.

The match went on in the same manner for another fifteen minutes. The Ravenclaw Keeper Duncan, a third year playing his first match, fumbled constantly, contributing to Gryffindor's unwavering lead. The Gryffindor Chasers were skilled at scoring, but not so at interfering with the Ravenclaw Chasers. Their Keeper, thankfully, was able to stop Ravenclaw from scoring, spare for two goals. By the time fifteen minutes was over, the score was 80 to 20 in favour to Gryffindors.

The most important thing, however, was the Snitch. It was worth one hundred and fifty points, and the Ravenclaw had a brilliant Seeker. Though, Gryffindor triumphed them equipment wise. Gryffindor was playing with their new Seeker this year, Johnny Johnson. Both Seekers were circling the air high above the stands, scrutinising the pitch for that small flash of gold. The glaring sun and reflections did no good to either.

Suddenly, Johnson dived for the ground, followed almost immediately by Samuels. A sudden hush fell over the crowd. No one wanted to distract the Seekers, and all were anxious to see who would win. They zigzagged across the field, flying at a low and dangerously fast speed. They were heading straight into the Hufflepuff stands...and at the last minute, Johnson pulled out of the flight. Minerva's heart started to sink; Samuels would have gotten the Snitch for sure. A split second later, Samuels's broom crashed into the stands. Augusta and Dorea screamed while Minerva gasped. Johnson raised his hand and displayed the feebly struggling Snitch, before heading into the space where Samuels had disappeared into to help him. For a moment no one moved. Then the commentator cried out, "Gryffindor wins!" There was a fair bit of cheering, which got louder as Samuels emerged on Johnson's broom sporting a broken nose, but otherwise looked fine. They had won!

"Inspired," breathed Minerva to her friends. Augusta was still cheering for her brother who had put in three goals all by himself during the game. "I know," Amelia replied, sounding rather amazed at the speed and intensity of the game, "but I don't really want to play though," she said. In response to Minerva's look of disbelief, she cried out, "It's so dangerous!" Minerva smirked. "That's the fun part, you see," she pointed out. "I won't be sitting here next year though," Minerva continued. Amelia glanced at her in surprise. "No, I'll be up there in the air, playing Chaser." Augusta piped in, "You'll do well, Minerva, you've got the perfect build for it!" Minerva whipped around and beamed brightly at her fellow Gryffindor.

That night, the common room was absolutely chaotic. Johnson was a Prefect in his sixth year. Being both the star of the match and a Prefect, he managed to stop some of the more crazy things, like a replay of the capturing of the Snitch, completed with the crash into the stands. Minerva refused to touch the Butterbeer, and kept to gillywater which she found that she rather liked. The music had a much faster beat than she was used to, and it suited the atmosphere perfectly well. The party was dwindling down, however, as it was nearing midnight. Minerva yawned. Alastor had retreated from the common room hours ago, and Minerva was ready to go as well. Across the room, Dorea caught her eye and smiled slightly, nodding towards the dorm stairs where Cedrella was currently dragging her towards. Minerva grinned and held up a hand, signaling that she'll be up soon. She cast a glance at Amelia who was laughing away with Augusta. Neither seemed ready to retire to bed any time soon, so Minerva just left them and head up the stairs herself for the night.

Slowly, the months crept by as Minerva buried herself in work, some of which were much beyond her level. Her friends often remarked that she would drown herself in her studies, or in a more realistic manner, suffocate under her books. It didn't bother Minerva for she knew it was true, but still she would throw anything within reach at them, albeit half-heartedly. She did make it a point to check what she was about to throw, after neatly smashing a Remembrall Augusta had left on Minerva's bedside table into Dorea's lap. It promptly shattered into pieces as Dorea shrieked and jumped up, and led to a discussion of Minerva's chances to play as Chaser next year, since one of the Chasers, Bell, was a seventh year and would be graduating by year end. It ended when Minerva reminded them that they had exams in a fortnight.

Exams came and left, leaving behind a result slip that displayed Minerva's 6 'O's. She was top in her level, which came as a shock to no one. Alastor had matching scores with Minerva for Defense, despite claiming to not understand Merrythought's lectures. All too soon, it was time for everyone to pack up and board the train.

On the morning of their departure, Minerva woke up at dawn break. She was up before the sun, which was her usual waking pattern. She was going to miss this place, definitely. _Just one year and it's already dearer than home_, Minerva thought wryly. Her own black trunk was already bolted and standing in front of her bedside table, which was a stark contrast to Dorea's trunk which was on the floor, clothes and other stuff strewn all over the floor. Minerva picked up a bag of 'hair dyes', as Dorea had called them that was responsible for a twenty point reduction from Gryffindor when Dorea had turned up in the Great Hall for morning sporting colours of a rainbow. A very, very bright rainbow. Minerva's lips turned up briefly both at the memory of the incident and at her brash and extremely outspoken friend. Then she sighed, and glanced at the sleeping form of the twins. They were Blacks, after all, and would have to return to the House of Black for the holidays. From what she gathered, both were rather reluctant to face their parents' fury regarding their House. Minerva had opted to stay back at Christmas with them as well, not wanting to face her mother's enquiries. The woman was persistent on creating another Potions miracle, something Minerva did not want to be. Transfiguration was her calling, and she had a rather strong aversion to Professor Slughorn's biasness. On the bed opposite her, Amelia stirred, bringing Minerva back into focus. She tossed the bag of hair dyes onto an intimidating pile of stuff waiting to be pack, and got herself ready for the last school day of the year.

"Oi, Minerva! Wait up!" Minerva heard as she was boarding the Hogwarts Express back to London. She spun around to see Charlus and Septimus waving at her, grinning, and signaled for the other Gryffindors to go on without her. As the trio shuffled along the narrow aisle of the train, Minerva scanned the carriages for signs of her friends. Even though each carriage usually carried 8 students at the most, the girls had decided to squeeze together for the trip. Being first-years, it would neither be a terribly hard task, though it wouldn't be a particularly comfortable task either. Finally locating them at the rear end of the train, she edged into the already crowded carriage where Amelia has saved her the window seat. The best for the brightest, she had called it. Minerva simply rolled her eyes as the Express began to pick up speed. Charlus was lying down on Septimus and Harold's lap, clutching his head in an imitation of a damsel in distress. Augusta snorted and kicked his dangling arm hard on the elbow. The twins burst out in laughter as Charlus jumped up with a start, while Minerva and Amelia exchanged an exasperated yet endearing look. The boys might be irritating and noisy, Minerva mused silently, but she was going to miss them especially back in the peaceful to an extreme Castle.

As the Hogwarts Express speed by the countryside, the jokes and laughter gave way to quiet well, quieter reminiscence of the year. Charlus was reminding everyone of all the 'ingenious pranks' he had pulled with Septimus over the months, and Harold, whose father worked in the Department of Mysteries, had engaged Alastor into a conversation on the Unspeakables and Aurors. Everyone was evidently trying not to think of the months ahead of them. It was not without good reason. All four boys as well as herself were the only child, and would definitely experience those pangs of loneliness at home, alone. Amelia had a younger brother, Edgar, who she didn't exactly get along with. Augusta, on the other hand, was fond of her brother, but any friend of hers could tell that she would prefer a sister. And the twins were horribly dreading the moment when they would have to face their parents. Minerva sighed softly. She would miss them.

"Alright," Minerva announced, "I am going to get all of your addresses." Then, fishing out a piece of parchment from her robes pocket, she stared at them all expectantly. Alastor grinned. "Thought no one would ever mention it," he said, before scribbling it down in a messy scrawl that was barely readable. After everyone was done, Minerva made copies of each address and handed them out. From the window, Minerva caught sight of the brick red train entering Platform 9 and 3/4. She stood up and said, in her best commanding tone, "All of you have to keep in touch, do you hear me?" Her friends smirked at her tone, and chanted back, "Yes, Madam!" And the platform came into view and they trudged off the train. Summer holidays were here.

**A/N:**

I didn't really want to write a Quidditch match, but I wanted Minerva to be at one and decide on being a Chaser. Sorry if it wasn't very good! And I forgot about Longbottom for majority of the chapter. HAHA.

Is the _Geminio _spell too advanced for a first year?

Anyway, the next chapter would be Minerva's second year! There'll be two chapters for that.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - Third Year, Part II**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!**

**A/N: I decided to skip to her third year instead of covering every year. The only thing interesting that happened in her second year was her joining the Quidditch team. Gryffindor won as well **

Minerva took a deep breath and pushed her trolley through the magical barrier at King's Cross station. She was returning to Hogwarts once more, for her third year of magical education. As usual, she had travelled to London herself. Her father had been ridiculously busy the whole summer, and once in a while Minerva would catch a snippet of conversation between him and the head of Auror Department, a formidable witch in her mid thirties. The hushed and hurried exchange always involved a wizard named Grindelwald. Minerva heard enough to surmise that he was a mad power hungry maniac set out to kill all that stood in his way, but to what Minerva did not know. World domination, perhaps? She never dared to bring it up though - her father's ashen face kept her from mentioning whatever she heard.

Minerva sighed and thought about Hogwarts itself. Her results were surpassed by no one for the past two years; in fact the Professor Hawkins, the Head of Gryffindor and Transfiguration professor, once jokingly suggested moving Minerva up a year. Minerva smiled at this. Indeed, she excelled at Transfiguration. She adored the sensation of magic that flowed through her body whenever she transfigured an object, from her head through her hands to her wand. She found that she could master Transfiguration spells before any of her classmates, often astonishing Professor Hawkins. At this thought, her heart gave a little pang. Gentle, old Professor Hawkins had told her secretly at the end of last year that he was retiring, and wished her all the best for her future years. Minerva was fond of the old Professor, despite the fact that he taught too slowly to interest Minerva. She wondered once more who would take over the empty teaching post. Then her thoughts were interrupted by the enthusiastic shout from her dorm mate, Dorea Black.

"Hey Minerva!" the young witch shouted, grinning broadly. She was standing with some of her Gryffindors in her year, namely Charlus Potter and Cedrella Black, her twin. As Minerva neared the trio, she heard the distinctive voice of Charlus bantering with Dorea about Quidditch. Cedrella saw her approaching and rolled her eyes at the two. Minerva smirked. She had a feeling that the two were going to end up together one day, if they ever took the time to analyse their own feelings. At this point, Charlus turned to Minerva and demanded, "Minerva, tell her that the Holy Harpies are better than Montrose Magpies." Minerva grinned. "No way, Charlus, the Magpies are much better. Besides, why would I be against something with the same initials as myself?" Minerva replied with a raised eyebrow. Dorea smirked at Charlus. "Come on, Minerva, we ought to board the train," she said smugly.

Amelia and Augusta already had a carriage all to themselves when the remaining three girls boarded the train. "How was your summer?" Augusta asked as a manner of greeting. Both Cedrella and Dorea grimaced. Their parents, being proud, pure blood members of the Slytherin House along with the rest of the family, were incensed to discover that both their daughters were in Gryffindor. As such, their last summer had been an 'awkward, awful and absolutely atrocious break', as Dorea had described. No doubt the past break had been the same. Then Dorea grinned. "Dear Aunt Lucretia gave me money to get my own broom when she told us to Diagon Alley," she announced proudly, "so I guess I'll be trying out for that spare Chaser spot this year. Watch out for me, Minerva!" Minerva was already a Chaser, and had been since last year when one of her precedents, Spinnet, had graduated. This year, Chaser Bell had left as well, leaving the spot open. The rest of the journey was spent on an avid discussion on Quidditch and the team they both supported, the Montrose Magpies. It effectively wiped all thoughts of a new Transfiguration Professor out of her mind.

Dusk had fallen when the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station. Only when the gang entered the Great Hall did Minerva notice the absence of Professor Hawkins and her anxiety came rushing back. She could only wait - something Minerva loathed - and see who this new Professor would be. And being an extremely impatient witch, waiting was most definitely not one of her favourite activities.

As Minerva watched, Headmaster Dippet took his seat at the centre of the High Table. On his left, a tall, auburn hair wizard sat down too. Minerva's curiosity peaked. The rest of the staff was already seated at the Table, so this newcomer was evidently their new Transfiguration Professor.

"Hey, who's that? And where's old Hawkins?" Augusta asked the girls. Three heads immediately spun around to see what Augusta was talking about. "Hawkins retired," Minerva replied. "So he's the replacement?" Amelia asked, somewhat rhetorically. Suddenly Cedrella clapped her hands together. "I know who he is!" she exclaimed softly, "it's the one who discovered the twelve uses of dragon blood!" she explained. Something in Minerva's head clicked. "Albus Dumbledore," she breathed. Finally! The answer she was searching for all summer was answered. "What," Alastor began, as he sat down beside Minerva, "were you girls talking about?" Quickly Minerva filled him in, and when she was done, Alastor commented, "So now we have the bloke who turned his matchstick into a needle during his first lesson teaching us?" Five pairs of eyes stared at him. Alastor shrugged. "Hawkins said that after you left in his first lesson," he explained. At that moment, Septimus sat down beside Cedrella as Charlus cried out triumphantly, "Sept thinks that Holy Harpies are better too!"

As her classmates debated Quidditch teams, Minerva turned in her seat to study her new Professor, as Merrythought conducted the Sorting. He had on a set of blue robes with silver collar When the first Gryffindor was Sorted (Crouch, Caspar!), he looked up and smiled benignly at Minerva. His baby blue eyes twinkled even from far. Subconsciously, Minerva returned the gesture. Then she focused on her friends' argument. She was going to have a good time in Transfiguration, she knew it.

Before she knew it, the Sorting was over. Headmaster Dippet stood up and beamed proudly at his students.

"To my older students, welcome back! To my first years, welcome to Hogwarts! Now for announcements. Professor Hawkins has decided to retire at the end of last year, and I introduce to you Hogwarts's new Transfiguration Professor and Head of Gryffindor, Professor Albus Dumbledore!" Everyone clapped dutifully, with Gryffindor being the loudest. "Now, let the feast begin!"

*********************************

The first lesson she had was Double Transfiguration. Minerva woke up promptly with the sun rise, and readied herself for the day before waking her dorm mates up. Leaving the grumpy bunch to themselves, she exited the common room for an early breakfast with a strangely awake Alastor. "So," Minerva said as they made their way down the stairs, "couldn't sleep?" Alastor sighed. "Was thinking about that Dumbledore bloke," he admitted gruffly. Ah. That explains his waking hour, Minerva thought. Alastor usually didn't wake till breakfast was half way through, and it was only because Harold would take pity on him and wake him. Transfiguration was not one of his best subjects, and he was evidently anxious about Professor Dumbledore's teaching speed. "Well," Minerva reasoned, "you still have me to rely on." Alastor gave her a wide grin.

The pair ended up in the Transfiguration classroom before any other Gryffindor, or Slytherin. The professor was probably in his office, seeing as the office door was ajar. Minerva was coaching him on the first spell in their third year textbook, the Lucerna Lepus spell. A handful of conjured candles stood on the table, and Alastor was concentrating on turning them into rabbits. Minerva glanced at his furry candle, sighed and corrected his wand movement. "It's a small swish then a sharp flick, Alastor," she said, without breaking concentration from her own rapidly changing rabbit. Over the two years, Minerva had been occupying herself with changing the colours, patterns and at times, species of whatever they were supposed to Transfigure. At the moment, her crimson rabbit made to hop off her table, only to be Transfigured into a gold and crimson striped candle. Alastor grinned sheepishly. Moments later, the bell for class rang and the rest of the class poured in.

"Welcome to your first Transfiguration lesson with me," a cheerful voice announced. Minerva stowed away the remaining candles hastily, and looked up at the tall figure of Professor Dumbledore, before blinking in astonishment. He had donned a set of most ridiculous vibrant purple robes with gold collar and cuffs, and was beaming at the students, his blue eyes sweeping around the class. There was no trace of superiority, only cheerfulness.

"Now, I will be handing out candles to each of you, and you will attempt to transfigure it into a rabbit. You will be judged according to the degree of change," he said, before flicking his wand and placing a candle on every table. "The spell is Lucerna Lepus," he continued, demonstrating the wand motion. "Begin!"

As Professor Dumbledore made his way around class, often bending down to correct a student, Minerva Transfigured hers into an emerald green rabbit. Satisfied, she undid the spell and leaned over to assist her friends.

"That's right, Dorea, that's the correct - " "Excuse me, Miss?" Minerva started at the unexpected sound. The two spun around and saw Professor Dumbledore standing in front of them, looking pointedly at her own candle. Minerva blinked, and realised what her professor must have though. "McGonagall, sir," she replied. "Well, Miss McGonagall, if you are already coaching your friends, would you mind demonstrating it for us?" he requested. By then, the whole class was looking at them. Minerva flushed slightly from the attention. She had never taken up any time in Transfiguration class except for the first lesson in her first year. Professor Dunbledore misinterpreted the blush, however, and seemed satisfied, as though she was a talkative student defying his instruction. Minerva bristled marginally and raised her wand just as inspiration struck her. "Lucerna Lepus," she whispered. The milky white candle reformed into a vibrant purple rabbit the exact shade of Dumbledore's robes. Then she glanced up at the silent professor's face. Professor Dumbledore was staring at the rabbit blankly, seeming unbelieving. Slowly, he dragged his glance up to her face and she saw wonder and astonishment in his eyes. "Well done, Miss McGonagall," he said after a tense moment. The Slytherins emitted a soft sigh. They were obviously hoping for a reprimand for disobedience from him. Then Professor Dumbledore walled off, and did not bother her or her friends for the rest of the lesson.

During lunch that day, Dorea caught Minerva's eye and smirked widely. "Completely stunned him with your brilliance didn't you?" she said gleefully. "Go McGonagall!" she laughed. Alastor grinned too. "Good for you, lass," he said in a half hearted imitation of her Scottish accent, earning a light whack on the head from Minerva. "Ah, but he's a good teacher," Alastor commented. Then, in a rare mood of cheekiness, he nodded at Minerva and said, "Almost as good as you." Minerva just laughed and continued eating.

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Ever since that first Transfiguration lesson, Professor Dumbledore kept his distance from the young Gryffindor. He always takes a look at her work, before nodding and praising her efforts quietly. Minerva found Professor Dumbledore's teaching speed to be moderate, and often presented a challenge to her. On the whole, however, she was getting bored once more.

It was the week preceding Quidditch season. Minerva had settled down in the Transfiguration classroom for the first day of the week, reading the latest issue of Transfiguration Today. She had just finished an article regarding Animagi by Professor Dumbledore when he entered the classroom from his office. He took a look at her magazine and gestured for her to continue, which Minerva did. She was intrigued by the concept of Animagi, yet there was one thing about this article she didn't quite understand...

"Professor Dumbledore," Minerva began as she approached his desk. "I'm not really clear about this. You wrote that in the process of training to be an Animagi, one often obtains features of the animal they would turn into. So would one spout fur if their Animagus form were to be a mammal?" Professor Dumbledore eyes twinkled brightly before he answered. "You see, Miss McGonagall..."

Around them, students slowly trickled in for class, but neither of them took any notice. Both were too caught up in their discussion of Animagi. Just as she was about to ask whether she could train to become an Animagus, the bell for lesson rang and both of them jumped slightly. She nodded briefly at him before retreating to her seat. Amelia raised an eyebrow while Dorea grinned. "Too engrossed in your discussion, eh?" she whispered as Minerva sat down. Minerva ignored her. The rest of the lesson was spent by her pondering how she was going to get Professor Dumbledore to train her to become an Animagus. She was only fourteen, after all.

By the end of the double period, becoming an Animagus was far from her mind. Dorea, Gryffindor's newest Chaser, had reminded Minerva of the upcoming match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Dorea was extremely eager to ride her new Cleansweep 2. It wasn't the best, but her Aunt Lucretia didn't give her a lot either. Minerva herself had a Cleansweep 3, a gift of encouragement from her father last year.

At Quidditch practice that night, their captain Algie Prewitt sat them down for one of his many pre-match pep talks.

"My fellow Gryffindors! The match is near! And you know what?" he said, pausing for dramatic effects. "That's right, we're going to win! Now up, and show me what you've got!" he cried, prompting them all onto their brooms.

Minerva had worked out various techniques and strategies with Dorea and Algie. Among the trio, Algie was the strongest, Dorea the fastest and Minerva the most accurate. Algie would steal the Quaffle from the opposite team whenever strength was needed, though at times the other two Chasers did that too. Dorea was mainly responsible for getting the Quaffle to Minerva, and Minerva was to shoot. One of the Beaters, Hamilton Longbottom, was to keep Slytherin players out of their hair and the other, Jonathan Weasley, was responsible for protecting their Seeker, Johnny. Between revised techniques, infallible teamwork and honed skills, the Gryffindor team was looking quite good.

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"And here comes the Gryffindor team! Chasers McGonagall, Black and Prewitt, Beaters Longbottom and Weasley, Keeper Wood and Seeker Johnson!" the commentator was drowned out by the wild cheers from the Gryffindor stands and jeers from the Slytherin stands. At the centre of the field, Algie was squeezing the Slytherin captain's hand so tightly that it was completely white. Only when he winced did Algie release his hand and made his way back to us with a smug smile. One point for them.

Within seconds, both teams were up in the air. Without pause, Dorea snagged the Quaffle out of the air and sped towards the goal. Minerva, having head straight towards the goals in the first place, was well positioned both to catch and to score.

"10 points to Gryffindor!" the commentator roared. Minerva caught Dorea's eye and smirked. The game was going exactly as they planned. So far, so good.

Thirty minutes later, the crowd was getting restless. The score was at 170 to 20, in favour of Gryffindor. If the Snitch was caught now, it would be a tie. If either side were to score more... The entire outlook would change. The atmosphere was tense and nervous, and even the crowd has stopped cheering. All the attention was on the two Seekers.

A split second later, both Seekers had shot off towards the Gryffindor goal posts. The Slytherin Seeker evidently did not intend to catch the Snitch fairly and constantly tried to shove and kick Johnny off his broom. Unwillingly to watch them fight it out, Minerva seized the Quaffle from a much distracted Dorea and scored. Ding! The score was 180 to 20. At the same time, the Slytherin Seeker pulled out of his chase, one fist located in Johnny's face and the other one clamped shut around the Snitch. As though put out of a trance, the commentator hastily stammered, "Slytherin gets the Snitch, but oh - GRYFFINDOR WINS!"

Silence.

Then the Gryffindor stands exploded into cheers and screams. A surge of red flowed down from the stands to the field where the players where descending. Minerva caught sight of Dorea being lifted onto the shoulders of the crowd before she herself was thrown in the air.

Nearby, Algie hollered, "Party in the common room!" Then, catching Professor Dumbledore's eye, he hastily amended, "I meant, celebration tonight!" Minerva grinned. Animagus or not, it could wait for another time. Right now, she was part of the Quidditch team, and she was going to celebrate like one.

**A/N: The next chapter is the start of her Animagus pursuit! And a Quidditch match. :D Do review! Even something short is 'nice story' brightens up my day ^_^**


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